So Say We All (Or What Is Left Of Us)
by lalibertalia
Summary: Crossover AU. On the fringes of Citadel space, the Normandy discovers a fleet of foreign spaceships. With the Reaper threat in full swing, Shepard and the Colonial fleet must find a way to defeat the Reapers, save Earth, and find home. But even galaxies away, organics and synthetics have a lot in common. Takes place after the jump in 4x10 "Revelations", and after the Citadel coup.


Lying down, with her breathing carefully measured and her vision beginning to blur, Shepard told herself that right now, there was not much more she could do. She rubbed her eyes as her omnitool flashed twice, signalling a complete transfer from the datapad resting on her bedside table. With a weary sigh she walked up the stairs, sliding into the chair beside her private terminal. Her mind swam with thoughts. _Udina. The coup. Kai Leng. Thane._

Shepard leaned back against the chair and rubbed her eyes. She clicked on the terminal's flashing icon, a bright _New Message!_ coming and going and causing her head to hurt. Anderson's dossier on Kai Leng opened in front of her.

_Gods, she needed a rest. _

Despite her guilt, she felt her eyelids beginning to drift shut as she read. Maybe the dreams wouldn't come this time. Maybe she could catch an hour, even thirty minutes to close her eyes, reduce the dark circles that have only widened since she left Earth.

"Shepard, I am picking up an anomaly."

Or maybe not. She looked up, squinting as EDI's voice rang throughout her cabin.

"What's it look like, EDI?" she asked, throat dry.

There was a moment of silence, and Shepard wondered for a second if she had imagined it. "I think it would be best if you came down to the bridge," the AI's voice boomed. _Was EDI always this loud?_

Shepard sighed. "I'm on my way," she said, rising from her chair with a stretch and feeding her fish before stepping into the elevator. _I'm always on my way_.

She could hear the voices buzzing before the doors opened. Shepard cricked her neck and straightened her posture as she walked out onto the deck. Traynor shot her a sympathetic look as she walked past the galaxy map, and Shepard could only manage a weak smile in return. "No messages for you, Commander," Traynor said half-heartedly, and Shepard thanked whatever powers that were at work. She walked slowly, listening to the echoes of her shoes clanging against the hard metal that lead up to the airlock. Around her the ensigns stopped their clicking and communications, turning around just enough to catch a glimpse before she was out of sight. Shepard quickened her pace.

"Commander, you've gotta see this. I think we're in business!" Joker shouted as she walked into the cockpit.

Shepard crossed her arms and tried to suppress a yawn. "What's the rundown?"

"My sensors indicate that a group of several ships have just appeared in the vicinity," EDI said, motioning at her console.

"Are they dangerous?"

Joker shook his head. "No, that's not it. They just…materialized. First there was nothing out there—just empty space—then BOOM!" He clapped his hands. "Forty or something ships popping up outta the blue, one by one."

"Reapers?"

EDI pointed upward. "They have since entered visual range. I can confirm the bodies are of synthetic origin, but I am unable to identify them beyond that. I have taken the liberty of alerting any Fifth Fleet vessels in the area should we need assistance, and have requested that Officer Vakarian ready the Normandy's cannons in the event of a conflict. But I do not think they are Reapers."

"Because…"

"Because," Joker said, pointing into the distance, "I've never seen a reaper that looks like _that_."

Shepard looked up and froze. Forty-odd ships floated together, clustered loosely around each other, and behind them all, a vessel so large Shepard almost asked Joker to double-check their distance. It loomed above the rest, an elegant piece of star-shaped metal floating in open space, silent and menacing.

"EDI," whispered Shepard. "What kind of a ship is that?"

"I am afraid that is the problem," EDI said. "I am unable to obtain identification for any of these ships. Their designs and makes are unfamiliar to me."

Shepard frowned. "Can you open communications?"

EDI went still for a moment. "I am unable to establish a network. I will try radio."

"Don't worry about it," Shepard said, but EDI had already stiffened and her eyes were beginning to flash.

"One moment, Commander," she said calmly. "I am finding a common frequency."

The cockpit was enveloped in static and Shepard's eyes began to water. Eventually her ears pricked as the static gave way to sounds resembling a language, and Joker cursed as EDI narrowed in on the signal.

"…_Is the Battlestar Galactica. Send identification codes or you will be fired upon. I repeat, this is the Battlestar Galactica."_

Shepard glanced over to the side. "EDI?"

"I have no knowledge of any ships with the name _Galactica_," the AI said. "Conducting extranet search now." EDI again went still, then "Search inconclusive. There is no record of a _Galactica_ within citadel space."

"…_I repeat. Send identification codes immediately. This is not a warning."_

Shepard frowned, thinking of Garrus preparing the canons in the main battery. There was a good chance EDI was relaying the scenario to him via intercom as it happened. "How's their radioactivity?"

"Their ships are cold, commander."

Shepard nodded. "Right then. EDI, respond back on the same frequency."

Joker gulped, pressing a few buttons on the Normandy interface pre-emptively while Shepard stepped forward. "Galactica, this is the SSV Normandy on behalf of the Systems Alliance. You are an unauthorized vessel travelling in Citadel space. Please identify."

Silence.

_"__Negative, Normandy. Send colonial ID codes or be ready for heavy fire._"

Joker fidgeted in his seat, looking up at Shepard and keeping his hands ready next to the flight interface. Shepard could feel the thrum of the cannons warming up from below deck. _Not yet, Garrus,_ she thought. _Not now._

"Galactica, we cannot identify you or any of your vessels in our ship's database. I suggest we talk about this. Do not fire. I repeat, do not fire. "

"_Send colonial ID codes immediately."_

Shepard gritted her teeth. She hated playing this card, and she hated lying even more. "Galactica, this is a council Spectre speaking. I have the authority to fire upon you and each of your surrounding ships. There are several fifth fleet dreadnoughts headed towards our location should we need backup. Casualties will be extensive. Do not fire."

The cockpit buzzed with static. Maybe it was a reaper trap. Maybe there was no _Galactica_, and they were seeing remnants from all the other civilizations who had been destroyed and preserved in the cycles before them. Shepard closed her eyes. It would be easy, she thought. She'd already been spaced once before, and that wasn't so bad—just a couple of seconds before she'd lost consciousness, and a few more before she'd lost everything else. There were worse ways to die, she thought. _At least then I might get some rest._

Joker was just asking EDI if she'd lost the signal when a gruff man's voice jolted Shepard back into place.

"…_This is Galactica actual."_

Maybe not a reaper trap, cleared her throat. "This is the commander of the Normandy."

She heard a click on the other end—the voice hadn't hung up, she could still make out faint breathing among the static, but—was there someone else on the line?

"I get the sense we aren't on the same page here," Shepard continued. "I just need some kind of ID. Ship model, identification code, flight log—"

"_I'm afraid we can't do that_," the voice interrupted. "_I don't know who or what you are, but if you're not a colonial ship, you're very likely an enemy. Identify yourself, and we'll see about printing a copy of our logs. But until then, I don't trust you on or near my ship_."

Joker's mouth dropped open. "Is this for real?" he exclaimed. "Commander, nobody's used paper logs in decades. It's gotta be a trap."

"Yeah," she murmured, looking out at the strange cluster of ships. "Something's definitely off here."

"_I'm going to make this simple,"_ the voice said. "_I don't know how you survived the attack, or how you've survived this long in space alone. But the survival of this fleet is—"_

"I have sent over the identification codes of the SSV Normandy SR2," EDI interrupted. "It would be helpful if you would send your own identification codes in return."

Shepard heard the "click" sound again, and the man's voice faded. They could hear him arguing. Joker relaxed his grip on the flight controls and EDI shot a quick relay to Garrus. Soon the static sputtered back to life.

"_Hello, Normandy?"_ a different voice sounded. Older. A woman.

"Affirmative."

"_My name is Laura Roslin. I understand your ship is having some… difficulty with your identification codes."_

"We're not having difficulties," Shepard said, trying to keep her voice from betraying her weariness—this was not a good time to sound frustrated. "You asked for them, we sent them."

"_Interesting."_

The arguing resumed on the other end of the line, and Shepard groaned, rubbing her temples, while Joker mouthed a silent _what the hell _over the sound of angry voices_._

_"__Normandy?" _The woman again. Roslin.

"Yes?"

_"__I'm going to cut to the chase here and ask you a few questions."_

Shepard massaged her head. "Can you call off your attack first?"

"_I think I can arrange that_."

There was a sound of rustling cloth over the radio. Shepard could hear Roslin clear her voice.

_"__The Galactica does not recognize your identification. This means one of three possibilities, the first of which is that you are enemy cylons seeking to lure the Galactica and the rebel base star into a trap. Are you trying to lure us in, Normandy?"_

"I…" Shepard faltered. What the hell was a cylon, nevermind a base star? "No. I don't know what you think we are, but believe me, the Normandy feels just as threatened by you as you do by us."

A clinking could be heard from the other end.

_"__Of course. Then, the second possibility." _Roslin spoke in carefully measured tones. _"How did you escape the attack on the twelve colonies? Was it because of this ship, this… Normandy?"_

Joker's eyes were almost comically wide. "Commander," he said, keeping his voice as quiet as possible, "please tell me we aren't dealing with a whole fleet of red sand crazies, here. On a normal day, I love a good old space fight with the blood pack, but we're stretched out a little thin right now, don't you think?"

"EDI," Shepard whispered. "Do you have any idea what they're talking about?"

"None, Shepard," she hummed. "There have been several Reaper attacks on colonies within the last few days, but I am unable to pinpoint twelve that are especially significant."

Shepard shut her eyes. "You're going to have to be a little more specific. What colony are you from? Have the Reapers attacked you?"

The static faded again, and Shepard waited, looking at the fleet that was now dangerously close by. There were so many ships in the mix, and assuming even the largest one could carry passengers…she exhaled. That would be a lot of refugees to find room for on the Citadel. Thousands, tens of thousands probably, and Shepard felt a ball beginning to form in her throat. _So many people_. There was no way the station could support them all.

"Don't worry, Commander," Joker whispered. "They'll figure something out."

"Of course." She croaked. "The Quarians have lived on ships for centuries, maybe Tali can give them some tips."

The three of them said nothing as they looked into space, Joker nodding silently and EDI glowing as she tried to maintain the channel.

"_Normandy?"_

"Yeah," Shepard whispered, eyes focused on the stars. "Still here."

_"__I'm reaching out on a limb, here, but am I correct in assuming you have never heard of the Twelve Colonies? That would be Caprica, Tauron, Picon, Gemenon, Virgon, Saggitaron—" _

_"_Not a clue," she murmured. Her voice seemed so hollow, and so small.

"_Amazing."_

"No record of any such colonies within Citadel space, commander," EDI offered.

"_This leaves the third and final option."_ There was another click, and more shuffling, and soon dozens of voices could be heard chattering over the comm. They all seemed to settle, and then the silence became deafening. Shepard was almost afraid to move. She could hear Roslin take a long, measured breath._"Normandy," _she said slowly,_ "Are you the thirteenth tribe of Kobol? Are you from Earth?"_

Shepard was slightly taken aback by the urgency in her voice. She didn't understand. There was a war on, and she was becoming more and more lost. "I'm not sure what the thirteenth tribe is, but this is an Alliance ship," Shepard tried. "So yes, we're from Earth."

There was the tiniest moment of perfect silence before the cockpit was overwhelmed by a deafening roar. Behind the static they could hear shouting, cheering, laughter… until eventually the voices seemed to unite, chanting an unfamiliar word again and again before they resumed their cheers. It was inconceivable to her, this sudden outburst of unrepressed joy, of laughter, of _hope_, and Shepard felt her eyes beginning to sting.

"_Galactica_, everything okay over there?" she managed to get out.

Amid the cheering Roslin's voice piped through loud and clear.

"_By the Gods, Normandy, are we glad to see you."_

The cheering only intensified. "Shepard," EDI chimed in over the voices, "I have completed my analysis of their spacecrafts. I am unable to match any of the models to the known designs of organic or synthetic life, and their exteriors contain traces of compounds not found within what you call the Milky Way. Furthermore, I am unable to communicate wirelessly with them in any capacity, but the voice prints I have taken from your conversation indicate that their crew is distinctly human. I have come to a conclusion."

Shepard's eyes widened. _My god._

"They're humans," she whispered, unable to believe her own words, "from outside the Galaxy."

"I believe so," EDI said, and Shepard could swear she heard a trace of amusement in her voice. She looked out the window at the ships that by now had drifted harmlessly around them. This was unbelievable—there were sounds of _genuine joy_ in the cockpit, surrounding her and worming their way into her head. And although she didn't quite understand it, she couldn't stop the feeling of her heart swelling in her chest.

"_Normandy?"_ It was the man again. "_I think we owe each other a conversation."_

"I think we do," Shepard answered, her voice steady. "Still don't trust me on your ship?"

"_I'm a cautious man."_

"I've got a pretty sizeable docking bay. Can you bring a smaller bird over?"

_"__I can have a raptor ready to fly within the hour."_

She nodded.

"_One last thing, Normandy._"

"Go ahead."

"_What the hell is a Spectre?_"

Shepard nearly laughed, as the sheer incredulity of it all began to take its toll. This was insanity. This couldn't be real. Earth was burning. "I'll see you aboard the _Normandy_," she said, and she motioned for EDI to turn off the signal.

"Commander, you sure you know what you're doing?" Joker asked, swinging around in his chair.

"I'm never sure," Shepard replied, making her way out of the cockpit. _But I think we need this_. _I need this._

She walked down the CIC with knots in her stomach. "Traynor, I need you to assemble the crew. Get them all down into the shuttle bay in the next hour. If they're busy, tell them whatever they're doing can wait."

Traynor perked up. "Commander? What's the special occasion?"

As Shepard walked into the lift and selected the main battery, she flashed Traynor the first genuine smile she'd given all week.

"We're about to make first contact," she beamed, as the elevator doors gently slid shut.


End file.
